Sins
by harlequin4ever
Summary: "Forgive me Father, for I have sinned."


The day was grey, lifeless and wet. It had been raining for weeks and the cold seemed to come with it, as inevitable as it was. A mass of black umbrella's swept the city streets, like a wave of death to anyone looking down from above. There in the midst of sea darkness was a particular midnight umbrella, larger than the rest of them. Dainty slim legs crossed the street and up the few steps, down the path and into the large church and stopped to place her wet ensemble in the allocated place at the entrance.

This church was massive. High ceiling, with beams every which way and two isles of pews lay out. The walkway was lined with red carpet. All in all, it was nicely furnished with wooden floors, and massive glass stained windows. And as she walked down the aisle, in those killer heels, the coat she wore, also dark, swished against the fabric of her knee length pencil skirt. Click, click, click.

And once down the front of the display, held with hundreds of little tea lights, the cross with Jesus himself and the fountain of holy water to the side, she side stepped the water and placed her jacket on the first pew. Long blonde curly locks tumbled over her back and shoulder's, and with impressive length, she adapted to the warmer air inside.

There were few people praying scattered in the pews, and three were in confession. The other bodies were the nuns and the priest. Although quiet, it would echo, and she took it into account. Picking up one of the wooden matches, she lit it from one of the already burning candles, and lit her own. Tilting her head to the side, she smiled that smile of hers, with lips blood red; so sweet and gentle, yet dangerous and lethal to anyone whom gazed upon it.

And waiting until the match finally faded out, she looked up at the cross and got down on one knee. Musing for only a second, she laughed, loudly, catching the attention of the priest. He wandered over to her, and placed the palm of his hand to the top of her head. "The Lord believes in those he loves being happy, my child, but may I enquire why so much enthusiasm?"

The blonde little thing looked up at him with big blue eyes; the brightest and most mesmerizing blue you've ever laid eyes on. It literally made anyone's thought process scatter, and this, she was counting on. The priest, in his attire was stuttering, even when he finished talking, was stunned at the beauty kneeling before him. And forgive him, Father, for he was sinning now, even in thought. Those pretty red lips could really do some damage.

And as if she could read his mind, she turned and slid her hands up his thighs... All the way up, until she was standing and a small woman she was, but still a woman, with all the right curves in all the right places. She knew what she wanted and they all seemed to drop their panties at her every beck and call. And she always got her way.

With a small gasp at her very touch, it wasn't until she was standing that he saw her eyes. "Forgive me Father, for I have sinned." Her voice was like silky honey. He was sure that if she asked someone to jump off a bridge for her, they'd do it just to hear her say that she loved them. The priest stumbled and fell on his back; still trying to scramble away from her, for when he gazed upon the blonde a second time, her eyes weren't those mesmerizing blue orbs. Instead blue hues were eaten away by the inky black, and there, swirling in the black lakes, were red streams. It was a striking combination against the whites of her eyes. He didn't even have time to scream.

Smiling wickedly, she suddenly pulled out her favorite gun. Ivory plated .45 caliber pistol. It was just the right weight, size and pressure in her dainty little hands. And standing there in her flowery completely see through blouse, aroused and pert, she closed her eyes and breathed in the anticipation around her. She was in the spot light and she loved it. Someone screamed and when she opened up her eyes to gaze at the squealer, fangs now elongated glinted sharply.

With a loud 'bang'…and four more, the screams and shouts were silenced. With a vicious grin, she giggled, like little bells to the ear and even though he was scared out of his wits and what she had planned next, he seemed to notice how she was delighted in how things were going. Until her head snapped to the confessional booths and suddenly she was across the other side of the room in less than a blink, and then with a shout from her victim, she snapped their necks, one by one, second by second. Crack, crack, crack, like twigs and never once battered an eyelid at the mass of bodies she'd caused.

"W-Who...are…y-you?" Suddenly his palms were up in surrender, but her face softened and she lowered her gun before walking over to him. He looked so pale and frightened, and she could smell the fear. "Hush." Was all she said, before kneeling once more. Not understand what she was doing, and why he was alive after everything else she'd done, he spoke up once more. "Why are you doing this?" Once she lay atop of him, this very handsome priest, not only with good looks, but short jet black spiky hair, she caressed his cheek with the top of her gun.

"How old are you, Father? You can't be more than forty. Don't be shy." But even as her hand worked on getting his robes off, let alone his pants, he answered as calmly as he could. "Twenty-nine and a half." She smiled and her eyes slowly changed back to those beautiful blue crystals. "I'm not even twenty-nine, but you are a handsome thing, aren't you?" Her hand finally pulled him, half hard from his constraints and she laughed that laugh again. "I bet you didn't want to be a 'holy man' and since there's no ring on that finger… I'm guessing that you've tried to be converted." Her palm wrapped around his now rising member and he choked out his reply.

"I don't like what I do..! Oh god, my parents forced me to become a priest." Again, she laughed. "God can't save you now." Biting his lip, he thrust into her hand, tears welling in his eyes. "Please, do whatever, just don't kill me." Tutting, she pulled her tight skirt up, while wiggling against him, and before he could even stop her, she was sliding down on his hard cock. They both let out a gaspy groan and again, he thrust up into her, hitting her sweet spot. She cried out, and it was a beautiful sight.

She rut and ground against him, holding his eyes, and all he wanted to do in that instance, was kiss those damned lips. And on cue, her pink tongue came out to dart and wet at said pouty lips, and suddenly it wasn't enough for her. Her breasts, heavy and full pressed against his chest, even as she throbbed so hard around him as he cried out again, she was already dripping, even as he pound into her. She could see it in his eyes. "Killing turns me on, but you already guessed that, didn't you?"

Her eyes sparkled dangerously and in the moment, she was quivering atop of him. So damned precious, how could anything so beautiful be so deadly? "Are you an Angel?" Suddenly was popping out of his mouth, accompanied by another groan and a curse. "I'm the Devil." She shivered, and with that thrust, the tip of his cock was hitting at her sweet spot…again…and again, and there she came, crying out to the god she didn't believe in, and he pulsed between her legs and shot his seed into her so hard, she was overflowing.

Grabbing his hand in hers, she pushed them down to touch at them, still joined, all slick, before he dipped his fingers into her heat as well. "Oh you are a naughty little thing." Even as she let go of his hand, he still thrust his own fingers up into her, right against his own hard member still sliding further up inside of her. Only her own hand was running along his lips, and suddenly his tongue lapped at her fingers. He could taste her, oh so sweet and like honey; she tasted magnificent, along with his own taste, that didn't quite compare.

Time to move on, and with that thought, she slid off him, pulled her skirt down and stood looking down at him. "Well it was fun while it lasted, sweet cheeks. Thanks for the ride." And then she blew a kiss, batted her lashes, and picked up her coat, throwing it over her arm. Turning on her heel, she clicked down the aisle making her way back into the world. Only she didn't get even half way to the door out before his voice reverberated off the walls.

"What do I say?" Of course he was talking about the police when he eventually called them. And of course, he was entrapped by her stature that he wouldn't dare breathe a word that it was really her. He'd make a good ally, he was also already in love with her, she could tell. He might be of some use to her, but not today.

She turned, slowly to face him once more. He on his knees, still undone in their little escapade, and he looked like a little boy she once new. Her heart stuttered in her chest, and suddenly she felt a wave of sadness crash over her, but her voice never faltered.

"Nothing."

Her hand rested at the small of her back where she held her trusty pistol, such sadness in her eyes, that she couldn't keep him from seeing. Bringing the hammer back, she almost shed a tear.

"Nothing at all."

And before he could ask what she meant, there was one last loud gunshot ring in the air, a thunk of a lifeless body hitting the ground, and she turned on her heel once more, slid her jacket on, sunglasses too, as she opened up her umbrella once more and stepped out into the world again. There was one last thought that entered her mind as she walked away from the church and the man whom reminded her of a past long forgotten.

'It's always sad in the end.'


End file.
